


Nothing But My Aching Soul

by OfMirthAndTears



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 20:50:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfMirthAndTears/pseuds/OfMirthAndTears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Superman and Batman knew that they lived dangerous lives, but that didn't prepare them for the day when their time together got cut short.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing But My Aching Soul

**Author's Note:**

> One of the first fics to be moved from FF.net to here. Let's hope it's not too badly slaughtered by the fine writers on this here site. 
> 
> Enjoy the SuperBat!

It was never a surprise when someone said that they were awed by Superman. 

He was godlike in his appearance, gentle in his nature, yet when danger arose, a fire surged in his eyes and he rose to defend his adopted people. 

He was…perfect, by Earth’s standards. 

The down side of being Superman was that most people couldn’t see past the ‘S.’ They couldn’t see, would never see, the man he was inside. The man who simply loved Star Trek and vocabulary, who blushed from the roots of his hair down every time someone so much as mentioned anything inappropriate, and laughed at the same corny joke over and over again. Just a simple guy from Kansas who liked simple things.

Bruce Wayne mused this as he watched his partner flit across the Bat Cave out of the corner of his eye. Looking as if he was some bright bird of paradise with all his red and blue, Superman rose in the air to examine the roof of the cave with seeming great interest. As a stubborn curl flopped over his forehead, he reached out a hand to run over the slime covered ceiling, then withdrew it just as suddenly, blue eyes round and mouth twisting into a momentary look of repulsion. After a moment, the look vanished and he trailed another finger over the cavern’s roof.

Bruce turned back to his computer. The simple things. . . 

“Have you ever felt this?” Clark called down to Bruce. “The ceiling, I mean.”

“Why would I?” Bruce said dryly, though his lips quirked in amusement. “I can’t exactly just reach my hands up to touch it, can I?”

“It’s sticky. Or wet. One of the two.” Clark let his body float down to Bruce’s level. “Come on, let me show you.” His hands pulled on Bruce’s cape, trailed over his armored shoulders. 

Bruce pulled away, lightly pushing Clark’s roaming hands off. “I’ve got to finish this report, Clark.” A pause. Then, gentler, “Clark. . . “

“Oh, B, don’t be such a stickler. Come on, just a second. Feel the ceiling.”

Except it wasn’t about feeling the ceiling at all, Bruce thought, as he grudgingly allowed Clark to lift him into the air, balancing on the tips of those red boots. Clark’s arms wrapped around him, tight and warm as if he was the Sun itself, as Bruce tipped his head upwards to eye the rapidly approaching top of the cave. 

“You see?” Clark said softly. His hand found Bruce’s, gentling pulling the leather gloves off in a single motion. He splayed Bruce’s hand under his on the cool rock ceiling, Clark’s bronze fingers contrasting greatly with Bruce’s fair skin, and the Kryptonian went on, saying, “It’s all moist. And cold.”

“Well, this is a cave,” Bruce said pointedly, absentmindedly letting his head drop against Clark’s shoulder.

“But look closer,” Clark went on, ignoring the other man’s comment. “You can see the tendrils of, what is that… Silver? Something like that. It’s just stunning, don’t you think?”

Pushing aside his thoughts of “This is a rock we’re talking about, Clark,” Bruce followed the other hero’s gaze. And, sure enough, he could see coils of a silver colored mineral twisting and flowing through the dark rock, glinting slightly in the ethereal light that Clark seemed to give off. “It’s beautiful, Clark.” 

Bruce let his eyes move from the rock to Clark’s face. The high cheekbones and sculpted lips over the cleft chin, thick eyebrows set over the absolute bluest eyes, like the sky on a clear summer day, or the waters of the Caribbean, or…like Clark. “Just beautiful.”  
Those blue eyes met Bruce’s.

Hand still entwined with Bruce’s, Superman leaned in to close the short distance between his lips and Bruce’s. The Kryptonian tasted sweet, like apples and peaches and freshly squeezed lemonade. His lips, warm, fit to Bruce’s like pieces of a puzzle. Clark knew just what to do to make Bruce moan for him, knew just where to prod his tongue and how to move his body against Bruce until the other man just unraveled in his arms. 

His right arm was just twisting around to grasp at Bruce’s lower back when the computer beeped. 

“Damn,” Bruce muttered, pulling away from Clark immediately.

“S’okay,” Clark mumbled, cheeks flushed, eyes bright and shining. He brought them down, red and black fabric swirling like smoke around them as they touched down to the cave floor. “We’ll always have later, right?”

Bruce said nothing, but merely allowed Clark to kiss him lightly on the cheek as the vigilante led the way to the Bat Cave’s main computer.

“This is Batman,” he snapped into the transmitter as Clark settled himself in Batman’s chair with a content look.

“Batman!” Wonder Woman’s voice crackled over the speakers, sounding panicked and out of breath. “I’m so glad I got ahold of you! Where’s Superman? There’s a situation-”

“He’s here with me,” Batman interrupted, shooting a look at Superman, who was looking decidedly more concerned than he did a few moments ago. “What’s the problem?’

“It’s Luthor! He – Ah, Flash! Look out!” There was an explosion that sent static rushing through the call. “Where are you two?! You need to –“ Another explosion, a scream and the call ended in a burst of crackles. 

Batman was already headed towards the transporters, pulling on his cowl, with Superman on his heels. 

“Damn,” Batman hissed. “Why didn’t we pick up on this?”

“We were distracted,” Superman said quietly as the vigilante tapped on the control panel to get the teleporter started up.

“By rocks!” Batman snarled. “It’s just –“

“Bruce.”

Bruce stopped.

Clark took a step closer. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll be fine. It’s just Luthor. We’ve handled him before. We can do this.”

His voice was strong, but his eyes betrayed his doubt. Clark never was a good liar. . .

But Bruce decided to play the part of the optimist for once – if only for appearances’ sake - and met Clark’s eyes with his white lenses. “We’ll be okay.” It was less of a statement, than it was a question.

“Yes.” 

The transporter started up as Clark leaned down to kiss Bruce again, gently this time, on the lips. 

“Be careful, Bruce.”  


\-----------------  


No, no, no, no, NO.

Superman rocketed over the rubble of Metropolis towards where Wonder Woman was straining desperately to lift a wall of concrete. With barely a flick of his wrist, the block was tossed aside and then Superman was cradling the body in his arms, wrapping the torn black cape around the broken frame in a weak attempt to warm it.

“Batman?” Clark’s voice was hoarse from battle, now cracking in his terror. “B, please. Please no, please please please wake up. Don’t be – “ He cut off with a choke. “Bruce, please…” 

Batman coughed, a bubble of blood forming at the corner of his mouth, then bursting a moment later. “Shhh Clark…h-hey. . .”

“Bruce! We’re- we’re going to be okay! You’re going to be okay” Superman cried wildly, casting an eye around to see Wonder Woman off to the side, hands over her mouth and eyes brimming with tears. “Diana, get-get a medic! Now!” 

She didn’t move. Frozen, eyes glued on Clark and the wrecked man he was supporting in his arms.

Clark swallowed, clutching Bruce’s body closer to his own. “Medic! Medic! Someone help! Please! We need a –“

“Clark.”

“Help!” Superman didn’t mean to start screaming, but it happened and suddenly he was sobbing as Bruce weakly reached up to place a torn and bloodied hand on Clark’s face.

“Clark,” he managed to get out. “Stop. It-it’s going to be okay.”

“No it’s not,” Clark whispered . “This isn’t how it was supposed to happen. We-we were supposed to grow old together and die in each other’s arms as we whispered how much we loved each other. We-we were supposed to go on and be happy and –“

“I am happy, Clark,” Bruce breathed out, fingers twitching on Clark’s cheek. Superman turned his head to kiss Bruce’s inner wrist, even as tears streamed down his face.

“I’m happy. Happier than I’ve ever been, because of you, you naïve fool. You’ve made my life so much more than just anger and desperation. I lo-“

“No,” Clark said thickly. “You don’t get to say that. Not now. Not for the last time. You aren’t going to d-die.” His voice caught on that last word and he clutched Bruce tighter to his chest, refusing to believe that that light was dimming in Bruce’s eyes, refusing to even think about Bruce…ceasing to be. 

He could hear the sirens of an ambulance coming closer, closer. He could bring Bruce to them now, it would just take a moment, but he couldn’t seem to move. He was rooted here to this moment, right here, right now, as Bruce…

“I love you so much,” Bruce murmured as Clark shook his head again and again, not seeing this, not wanting to see. . .

But then a final sigh of air left Bruce’s lips and his hand dropped and his eyes became cold and dull, still fixated on sky blue orbs. 

Clark was frozen. Unmoving as he gripped Batman’s body close to his own as the ambulance pulled up, sirens wailing, but suddenly he was sobbing and screaming out cries he didn’t know he had been holding in. Clark felt Diana’s arms wrap around him and heard her voice tell him, “Kal, let go out of the body,” but he didn’t, he couldn’t. He just saw a building falling, and the center of his world trapped inside, and then grey eyes growing distant, disappearing into a world that Clark could not reach him in.

Gone.  


\---------  


“They say he’s crazy.”

“Crazy? Nah, man, he’s ain’t crazy. He’s Superman!”

“Yeah, that’s why he’s crazy.”

“… He’s got a point.”

Saturn Girl cast a look at the solitary figure behind her, silhouetted against the skyline of Metropolis. 

“He doesn’t look crazy,” she said quietly, folding her hands in her lap. 

“Most of them don’t,” Cosmic Boy told her, poking at his soup with a spoon suspiciously. 

“I think he’s nice,” Phantom Girl declared. “He’s always there to help us when we need it, and he’s – “ She looked nervously around, then ducked her head and whispered, “ He’s kind of hot.”

“Whoa!” Chameleon Boy shook his head. “No, Phantom Girl, that’s just weird. The guy’s like, what? Over four hundred years old?”

“I heard he’s over a thousand,” Bouncing Boy chirped as he sat down heavily to Phantom Girl’s right. 

“Whatever,” Cosmic Boy said sourly. “He’s still just some creepy old guy. Probably has skeletons in his basement or somethi- “

“I can assure you, Mr. Krinn, there are no skeletons in my basement that I am aware of.” 

The entire group jumped to see Superman about ten feet away, staring at them with a cold glint in his eyes. His grey and black suit flowed over hard muscles as he walked slowly towards them. Aging had been kind to him, lightly gracing his face with lines over time, and a dusting of white hairs over his temple. Yet, he still exuded an aura of power that Metropolis knew all too well.

“Don’t you have training to get to?” Superman asked, cocking a thick eyebrow at them coolly. 

“Yes sir!” Saturn Girl cried, hopping up from her chair instantly. She grabbed Cosmic Boy’s wrist. “Come on, let’s just go, okay?”

Casting shifty looks at Superman, the cluster of young heroes stood as well and filed past Superman, heads down and breaths quick.

“Man, what a fucking weirdo,” Cosmic Boy muttered as he and Phantom Girl rounded the corner. 

Kal turned away, fists clenching at his side momentarily before he lifted his chin to the sky, eyes closing against the haze of red. When he opened them, the city of Metropolis lay before him. Sharp buildings of steel and concrete and glass dominated her skyline, mashing together 20th century architecture and then newer designs of the modern age. Hover cars streaked past him, going way over the speed limit and, yes, there they were. The red and blue lights of the police, wailing and screaming their sirens for all to hear. 

An alert beeped from behind him. The computer. As Kal crossed to it, the beeping continued until he pressed a button and expanded the monitor to the holoscreen, bringing the readings to the air in front of him with barely a swipe of his hand. 

The Sun readings. The temperature had spiked again, as was normal nowadays. The yellow star was growing more and more unstable every passing hour, and it was all Earth’s scientists could do to use the Legion of Super-Heroes, and by extension, Superman, to keep it at bay. Just a pop up there once and while when the data jumped into unnatural numbers again. 

With a sigh, Kal lifted himself off the floor and up through the gap in the ceiling, up four floors, until he came to one of the Legion’s side hangers. It wasn’t that big of a deal to go up and make sure the Sun wasn’t blowing itself up or anything. Just tedious. The Legion was the only group qualified to survey the star, and since a majority of the Legion was under the age of twenty five, the novelty of travelling to the Sun wore off after the first time. 

Which just left Superman.

Kal silently started up the teleporters, waiting patiently for the Zeta Beam to come online, barely moving except for the slow tapping of his index finger against the control panel.

A nervous twitch. He'd have to start working on getting that under control.

‘Ready to transport, Kal-El,” a monotonous voice echoed through the hanger. 

“Thank you, Brainiac,” Kal said quietly, stepping onto the Zeta pad. 

A blink of his eyes, a flash of light, and then he was standing on a hovering platform lined with holograms and machines, with a great purple shield encasing the whole structure, and the Sun right in front of him, burning with yellow and orange light.

Sighing again, Kal moved over to the first hologram, carefully reading and rereading the data, then moving onto the next one.

He was on the fourth screen when the first flare started.

Solar flares weren’t uncommon. They happened almost daily. They just never happened this close to the science platform. 

This was a big one; it rocked the floating construction, sending Kal nearly flying through a row of translucent monitors if he hadn’t caught himself last moment mid-air. Flying a few feet forwards, Kal had to wince for a second. Even he could feel the heat of the flare through the thick protective shield around the platform. 

The second flare happened a few seconds later, about the same size as the first, except much, much closer. It struck the left side of the purple shield, shaking the science platform violently, breaking several of the date reading machines as they crashed into one another.

And then the shield chose to fail. 

It flickered, once, twice, and then disappeared completely, leaving Kal a victim of the Sun almost instantaneously. 

With a rush of air and a shout of alarm, the Kryptonian was dragged forward towards the great yellow star pulsing before him like it was a living creature. Kal was quickly able to realign his senses and he righted himself in the air, shooting upwards and back several hundred feet until he could properly survey the damage. 

The science platform and equipment were in ruins, burning in front of him, behind him, on all sides, in the Sun, everywhere. The star itself was shooting off small bursts of fire and heat all over its surface, like small bombs simultaneously going off, a hundred at once. 

But then a large chunk of metal from behind him surged forward and knocked him towards the Sun. He was too close, it was too hot, he had to move, but he couldn’t, he wouldn’t move, why wouldn’t he move? 

Kal hit the surface of the Sun in a column of fire.  


\----  


_Clark Kent always knew his mother was going to die. But that didn’t prepare him for when it did happen._

_When Lana Lang broke it to him over the phone, told Clark how she had gone to drop off some flowers, only to find Martha lying motionless on the couch with a photo of her, Johnathan and an eight year old Clark in her hands, Clark had felt like a piece of his heart was being ripped out of his chest._

_Lois went about forty years later. She, too, had died peacefully in her sleep. It was a large funeral, with many politicians and people with big money attending, all coming to pay respects to a fallen legend._

_And Clark had mourned her, his first love that had never had a chance of working out. He had mourned her as he mourned the rest of his friends and family. Hal, John, Barry. Diana vanished back into Themyscria after Steve Trevor, a colonel in the US Army with whom she had close relations with, died in the late 2050s_

_Even Conner and Kara had passed on. Kara went down with a kryptonite bullet in her heart as she defended Stephanie Brown, who disappeared shortly after the Kryptonian’s death. Kon-El died later on, in the early 23nd century, as his Kryptonian DNA finally gave way to human mortality_

_But Bruce was the worst. That was the one that had ruined him, the one that had wrenched out his soul and twisted him into something that was so achingly incapable of loving another being again. Every night he would sleep in Bruce’s bed, breath in Bruce’s aura until that died along with him, died along with Alfred, with the Robins, with the mantle of the Bat._

_It had been impossible, unbearable, as his loved ones died around him, while Kal continued on without them, yearning for their touch, reaching for their love, but when the world didn’t reach back, he just cut it all off._

_But now. . ._

Amidst the flames, Kal-El of Krypton closed his eyes and breathed.

_“Hey, Bruce?”_

_The man in question turned to shoot a look at Clark over a shoulder. “Yes?”_

_Clark only smiled at his lover’s annoyed expression. He leaned forward to nuzzle Bruce’s bare neck, inhaling his scent deeply. He loved how Bruce smelled. Under the sweat and expensive cologne, he smelled…dark, like a forest after a thunderstorm, or a musky old apartment full of secrets of lives passed, or a dark cave full of rushing streams and cool air._

_“What is it, Clark?” Bruce barked, patience wearing thin._

_“Nothing,” Clark whispered, peppering Bruce’s shoulder with kisses. “I just love you so much.”_

_Bruce rotated in bed to face Clark, visage no longer annoyed, but gentle, open, not at all an expression one would expect to find on the Batman’s face._

_Like always, Bruce said nothing, but drew Clark in close for a kiss, pressing every inch of his bare body against Clark’s like this day would be the last one they every got to spend together._

_But this time he pulled back after a second, looked Clark straight in the eyes, and whispered, “And I love you, Clark Joseph Kent.”_

The Sun gave another almighty roar, a streak of fire launching itself out of his center and towards Earth, until it pulled back and settled, finally calming its surface and regaining its place as Earth’s watchful protector.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Everything in the fic that seems off canon-wise is just my writing dictatorship taking over. Like, the Legion being only several hundred years in the future, Clark being able to be killed by the Sun, etc. There are a bunch of debates on whether Clark CAN be killed by the Sun, and I usually go with the "it gives him power, but if he gets too close, it's very dangerous to him." Like the All-Star Superman plotline.


End file.
